Sinful Intentions (The Bobrov Bratva #2) Read Online Shandi Boyes

Categories Genre: Dark, Mafia Tags Authors: Series: The Bobrov Bratva Series by Shandi Boyes
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Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 86238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
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I usually like to savor the ride, to make it as drawn out as the waves of pleasure that roll through me, but this time I can’t. The buildup is too quick, the explosion blinding.

Within seconds, the fluid rocks of my hips smooth as a blistering of lights spark above me. I shudder and moan, the sensation gentle but overwhelming.

Since the buildup was so quick, the aftermath is long and shattering. By the time I come down from the unbelievable relief that it is Alek bringing me to the highs of ecstasy, I am sated and boneless.

Alek doesn’t seem to mind. After wiping up the evidence of my long climax from his hairy chin, he yanks down his sweatpants, curls my seemingly weighted legs over his shoulders, then brings me to orgasm all over again with the same mind-hazing slowness.

He doesn’t increase his pace or let his desires go wild. He savors every moan, shudder, and spasm his dedication encourages until his needs eventually bring him to his knees.

With his eyes locked on my face and his hand under my backside to arch me up to him, he slowly enters me with the same tortuous pace he did while bringing me to climax an incalculable number of times.

“Fuck, драгоценный. How is it possible you get tighter every time I take you?”

I savor the full feeling of being stretched so wide before pulling him down for a chaste kiss. The power he is exuding to hold back is felt in the tremor of his lips. It is taking everything he has not to pound into me with everything he has, and the knowledge has me wondering what I missed.

“You heard me,” I murmur when I see the truth in his hooded gaze.

He pushes in deep, commanding all my senses before faintly nodding.

I choke back my shame, but I can’t hold back my shock that he doesn’t hate me after what I confessed.

I killed our daughter.

How can he not hate me?

He must have mind-reading capabilities. “What happened was an accident, драгоценный.”

When I shake my head, he thrusts in deeper.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

I should hate that he is using my libido against me, but when he pushes in and out another three times, my fight is nowhere near as strong.

“I shouldn’t have kept you away from her.”

“You didn’t.” An involuntary shiver racks through me when he adjusts the span of my hips so he can take me deeper. His speed remains the same, though. “I had time with her. If anything, I stole her from you. She’s been with me for years.” His thrusts slow when he places my hand on the tattoo on his chest, but they’re still mind-numbing. “She’s always been a part of me.” A familiar tremor hits the lower half of my stomach when he murmurs, “As have you.”

We never named our daughter, but the instant we learned she was a girl, Alek gave her the same nickname as me.

Precious.

That word is woven around the intricate design circling her feet.

“I love you, Alek,” I murmur, realizing I was as wrong to keep that from him four years ago as I was his right to see his daughter.

“I know you do, драгоценный.” His smirk almost pushes me over the edge of orgasmic bliss, but that doesn’t mean he will make the fall less dramatic. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll go faster.” When I pout, he sucks my protruding lip into his mouth before releasing it with a pop. “For the first time, you didn’t run when we fought. You stayed. That proves you’re not going anywhere, so I can take my time with you.”

I love his playfulness, but it won’t stop my snappy side from trying to get a rise out of him. “We will need to eat at some stage.”

“Oh, don’t worry, драгоценный. We will.”

Before I can recognize the glint in his eyes, he withdraws and then buries his head back between my legs to ensure there isn’t an ounce of confusion about what he plans to live off.

19

ALEK

When Ghost’s husky snicker reaches my ears, I shoot him a riled, shut-the-fuck-up glare. Anastasia was so convinced she was going to be a shit mother when we found out she was pregnant not long after her nineteenth birthday she offered to have an abortion.

I wouldn’t hear of it.

I’m a believer that everything happens for a reason, so although the pregnancy was a shock, and her loss fucking gutted me, I’ll never manually steer the arrow of my trajectory.

Furthermore, the way Ana has taken care of me the past few weeks shows she will be an awesome mother. I love her to fucking death—even when she is ramming tablets down my throat and making me swivel my tongue to ensure I’ve swallowed them like I’m a patient at a hospital for the criminally insane instead of the man who brings her to ecstasy all hours of the day and night.


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